i romanticized us so much
that even when you made me cry
i thought of my tears as stars spilling from the sky
coming together to create constellations
of two lovers dancing through space together.
—  but we were a supernova at best; together, we burned so brightly that the universe couldn’t handle us
(cc, 2017)
1. I wasn’t in love with you anymore, but god, this knocked the wind out of me.
2. You were just here.
3. You were just here.
4. Do you remember? The frozen food pressed to your shoulder, the way you shook with the knowledge of a barely avoided death?
5. My mouth. Yours.
6. I had been struggling with my old poems about you. You know, you were the first one I ever wrote. I had some questions for you, Cleveland. I suppose I don’t have them anymore.
7. It isn’t even seeing you kiss her that’s the problem. It’s that you share a table.
8. Maybe “wife” bothers me, too. I know how that word sounds, coming from you. Remember? Those long drives? Perhaps I still exist as your heart when you hit the road.
9. You still exist as mine when I hit the words.
10. I couldn’t read them aloud anymore, the poems. That old pain. It didn’t exist. We had chased it away with chocolate and cherries. Still, you occupy a shelf in the bright. In the cold .
11. You always have been impossibly careless with my heart. With my new lives, all of them.
12. There’s a Smiths song – if you were reading my texts I would send you it – it goes: and I’m not happy / and I’m not sad. I’m not sad, seeing you happy. She looks as full of light as I used to when you kissed me. I am glad for her. I know what you have to give.
13. It’s the loss of our friendship. More a removal. A reopened scar, from the last time. Remember, how we were friends? We’ve been so good at it. I can’t believe you won’t hear from me now. I couldn’t believe you wouldn’t hear from me, then. You know the words. 
14. I just wanted to wish you well. I just. I just wanted to be what I always have been. Yours, in whatever form we decide.
15. Nearly two years since we met and you still find new ways to let me down. I think it impresses me more than it wounds.
16. You told me all about her, remember? We discovered we had both loved ghosts, since the last time you cried on my couch. Do you remember? The things that we allow to haunt us take root in the end. I need to change my sheets.
17. I wonder if I am the ghost now. The woman you never had the courage to keep. Do I haunt you, darling? I can hear your voice saying yes. Feel the reach of your arms as I spin out of them, laughing. Do I echo?
18. You kissed me like you used to, the last time. You will again, the next. You always do.
19. In a poem I never got the chance to read you, I said that you exist suspended in time. In flashes of white sheets. Bathed in orange light on the Golden Gate Bridge. Spinning me around on a cold February evening. One year ago today.
20. One year ago today, you laid next to me. We cried about something that doesn’t matter anymore. It didn’t matter then, either.
21. Do you remember the words? Of that last song at what we thought was the last breakfast. You sat me on your knee.
22. Your hands shook as you held me tight. I put my lips to your ear. Do you remember? The words. Say them with me.
23. In my own sick way / I’ll always stay true to you.
—  Upon Seeing Your New Girlfriend For The First Time. Charlotte Ford.
And I tried. I tried to be beautiful in a way that caught you off guard. I tried to be smart without having to use a calculator. I tried to be funny without having to think of some stupid joke to say. I tried to be sexually experienced for you. I tried to have all my shit together. I tried to figure what I wanted in life. I tried everything just so you could look at me the way I look at you. I tried to be something that wasn’t me and even when I tried all theses things it still wasn’t enough to make you look at me. It still wasn’t enough to make you want me. It still wasn’t enough to make you love me. Never again will I ever be something other than myself for a guy. Never again will I betray the body I was given. The home that I hated for so many years and treated like shit. Never again will I put a mans needs before me because really men ain’t shit. They do not home a person for 9 months just to go through extraordinary measures to bring that tiny human into the world safely. They do not bleed for a week and have extreme pain just because they aren’t pregnant. Women do not open their hearts and hips and birth a child when it feels like every bone in their body breaking and more just so a man can decide if she’s the one he wants for the week. My point is, do not ever settle for a man that does not see you as magic and more. Women are not ordinary. We did not give birth to civilization just so we could be treated like shit.
—  You not wanting me was the beginning of me wanting myself. // love, heartbreak & everything in between.
would seem selfish
if i was not already empty.
i rattle bones
and hear an orchestra.
living and dying
are often irrelevant.
the intrepid unknown,
i sleep
across train tracks
and feel very much alive.
—  poeticallyordinary, intrepid unknown.
I won’t open up 
like a perfectly painted flower
when you first touch me.
That’s because I’ve survived 
hurricanes that have tried 
to destroy me.
Instead of fields of daises 
you’ll just find small buds 
slowly blooming
inside me.
—  darling you might have to wait a while before you catch my scent 🌺 // a.hagar
Find someone who sees the beauty in the ugliest parts of yourself; and that’s okay if that someone is you.
—  giulswrites
He reminds her of earthquakes,
he always comes back,
even after a long time,
she learns to live again,
she learns to forget the past,
and here he is, in front of her,
scaring the hell outta her,
because what if they are meant to be?
what if they have to be together?
what if it’s a sign?
what if they make the biggest mistake
leaving each other?
what if? 
But she knew,
earthquakes are meant to destroy things,
earthquakes have their reasons of coming back,
they have to damage what’s not yet ruined,
she knew,
you can’t ask for peace from something
that was meant to be a destroyer.

My theory is entropy.
This isn’t supposed to make sense.

That’s the only way I can find to explain you. Explain that I am…
While you remain safely on the shore, wondering why I’m all wet

Some stories just don’t have endings–the dissipation of matter beyond its present state, expanding further and further into the far reaches of the unvierse.

I can’t figure this out. I can’t figure out why I can feel all of this, can feel my very atoms being rearranged into loving you, and not be loved back.

I can’t figure out why I’m getting torn apart by the very force that holds humanity together.
How is it that I can go through so much in life, and I am defined by my capability to feel this kind of pain? How is it that I could tell any story, but this is the only one I can’t stop telling?
I know I am contributing to the flux of the universe,
with every broken line.

I am matter, I matter,
my mass
is equal to
the weight of the words you say,
the ones I write
My volume is
the sound of my heart breaking.

entropy–How you have undone me,

—  Entropy (II)
I’ve always admired flowers that grow through the cracks in the pavement for the same reason that rainbows only happen when it’s raining. It’s the reason I like rough diamonds… those salt of the earth people who haven’t had an easy day in their life but still have so much love and kindness left to give out to others.
People like that inspire me because they’ve transcended their hardships by allowing them to shape them into better people… and you have to admire something beautiful that battled through adversity to be what it is
—  Ranata Suzuki | The beauty of genuine people

my heart has been set free from the cage it was previously locked in and my god, let me tell you, walking away from what destroyed you, feels so good. see, it took so long. so much valiant effort. so much pain. the cage was stained red with my blood. i tried to shrink myself down, fit through the lock, squeeze my way out. i tried everything possible and it never worked. i would rattle the bars until my hands were numb, id scream and beg for help and gave up when my voice left me along with my happiness. until one day i sang the song my heart had been dying to sing for so long. the truth. and it set me free. i expressed how i felt, i screamed about my heartbreak, i felt the pain, i cried it all out. and the cage is no longer restraining, but merely a fading image of what i once was confined in. i am free to fly now. and i have flown so far away that happiness comes far easier to me now and it feel so good. letting go feels so damn good.

i know he feels like a safety net
always there to catch you
but darling, safety nets do not
have huge holes in the middle
safety nets cannot be always burning
safety nets should not tear
apart at the smallest of pokes
safety nets do not give
you an illusion of safety
safety nets cannot be safety blankets
they cannot come with a tag saying
safety not guaranteed
they need to catch you when you fall
they need to keep you safe